


Ireena's Dreams

by LadyNikita



Series: Curse of Strahd One-Shots [4]
Category: Curse of Strahd - Fandom, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: F/M, Gaslighting, Gen, Keeping it as spoiler free as I can, Manipulation, Mentions of Blood, Strahd Being Himself you know the drill, in the hopes of showing it to my players in the near future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29607030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNikita/pseuds/LadyNikita
Summary: A series of dreams turning to nightmares Ireena has in my campaign, showing her a world where the sun is out in the sky, Strahd is human and she's there in Castle Ravenloft with him.
Relationships: Ireena Kolyana/Strahd von Zarovich (canonically one-sided)
Series: Curse of Strahd One-Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100255
Kudos: 6





	1. Gardens of the Overlook

She opens her eyes to a clear, blue sky, no cloud in sight; her skin is warmed by the gentle sunrays that make her hair glitter. She’s laying on her back, in a garden. The grass is soft and green, the flowers are blooming; must be springtime. A gentle breeze is cooling her cheeks as she smiles, smelling the scent of flowers and fresh soil in the air. To her left she sees a man quite older than her, probably in his late thirties. He’s dressed elegantly and his demeanor emanates regality. His features are sharp and weathered, there’s a few minor scars on his face. He’s looking at her and he’s smiling; she can see joy in his steel-grey eyes that usually seem so distant and cold. Her first instinct is to be afraid; but she isn’t. She feels safe here. She feels happy, if maybe a little awkward. But not scared. Why would she be scared?  
Strahd von Zarovich reaches his hand and presents her with a little wildflower.  
“Look, it goes with your eyes,” he says softly. Ireena chuckles lightly and takes the flower.  
“Thank you, Elder,” she responds with respect that is due to the Count of Barovia. She can see him wince at the title.  
“Please, my dear one, call me Strahd,” he smiles, and she shyly reciprocates. The laws of the court somehow always eluded her.  
“Are you enjoying the castle?” He asks with interest, watching her intently. “My hope is you’re most comfortable here.”  
“Of course, El-, um, Strahd. Everything’s absolutely perfect.”  
Strahd gets up and offers her a hand. They walk together in the Castle Ravenloft’s gardens and everything seems peaceful. They walk up to the edge of the cliff overlooking the Village of Barovia. The moon already appeared in the sky, faint in the light of day. The village seems lively and Ireena looks at it with fondness. Home. She then looks back at the looming castle, the breath-taking building always stirring up some kind of an unease within her. Maybe it was because of its past. But now, with Strahd as the ruler, everything is better. She can be happy here. With the love of her life…  
A terrible pain overtakes her. She gasps for air, clutching at her chest, and collapses on the ground. She hears wind and suddenly she feels cold rain pour down on her. Tears start falling from her eyes, mixing with raindrops as someone clutches her shoulders. The weight on her chest is growing unbearable. A pain of loss. Of betrayal. The person is talking, shouting. The wind and rain drown out the words which she wouldn’t be able to understand anyway. She sobs uncontrollably. The hands clutch her palms now. Blood mixes with rain on her white dress. She looks up and sees the deep crimson of his eyes. The shadows under them. The sharp of his fangs when he speaks. She screams and suddenly she’s falling. The rain is pounding in her ears, a thunder tears open the sky, and someone is screaming her name. Her name? Was that her name? She doesn’t know. She’s falling. Eternally falling into the mists.


	2. Music of the Undead Halls

She’s in a spacious hall, sitting in a red velvet chair. The room is freshly cleaned and there is no one around but him. He looks back at her above his shoulder with a flash of vulnerability in his eyes. She smiles as she realizes. He doesn’t get to play for people. He doesn’t want to. Music is probably an instrument of emotions to him. And he doesn’t let people see his true emotions.   
He starts playing the piano, a moderately fast piece fit for a dance. Ireena can’t miss the mournful tone of it though. There is something mournful to the whole image of lord Strahd, as if he’s eternally grieving over a loss of some kind. He shoots a glance in her direction without missing a note. She looks into his eyes with a genuine smile. She has to admit he’s talented. The piece tugs at some unnamed strings of her heart and she savors the sound, up until the last note is played.   
Strahd sits quietly for a while before turning to her.   
“I loved it,” Ireena said. “It was truly beautiful.”  
“It’s one of my mother’s original pieces,” Strahd smiled. “She had a talent for music.”  
“It seems you possess one as well, Old One,” Ireena bows her head in a courtesy. Strahd chuckles sarcastically.   
“Not really. It’s a small thing I like to do every once in a while, but… I’m glad you enjoyed it, my lady.”  
Ireena’s cheeks feel hot. She’s been in the castle for quite a while now but getting used to being titled has not been getting any easier. She stands up from the chair and walks up to the instrument, then lightly touches the white keys. Strahd observes her with interest.   
“Do you wish to learn?” He asks. Ireena looks at him with a spark in her eyes and her lips form a smile.   
“Would you teach me?” She asks as Strahd makes space for her on the piano chair. He guides her hands gently but firmly and she can feel the Count’s joy.   
She hears the doors to the hall open. There’s a window behind them and the silhouette of a person entering is but a shadow in the light of the sunny day. She knows that person though. She momentarily stops playing and stands up, lifting her skirt, and starts running to meet the newcomer. She embraces them into a tight hug as they lift her up and swing her around.   
A thunder crashes and at once, all the windows break. Ireena’s laughter transforms into a scream as she falls to the floor, covering her head. The light of the sun disappears and suddenly she’s alone in the cold hall covered in darkness. She breathes heavily; carefully opens her eyes and looks up. Strahd kneels facing her. He’s lost what humanity he had mere seconds ago; the creature in front of her is now a pale vampire. He gently traces his cold fingers along her cheek, wiping away a stray tear she didn’t notice. She’s frozen in place, unable to move, unable to say anything. He’s looking at her face and he feels more real than when he stood before her in her house, days ago, when Ismark and their father were fighting off monsters downstairs. A chill runs down her spine and she shivers.   
“Just a little while longer, my love,” he whispers. “Just a bit longer and you shall be safe. Shall be happy. Finally, by my side.”  
His fingers trace down to her neck. Her pulse rises and she sees hunger in his blood-red eyes. Cold panic urges her to move, to run, escape however she can; but her body does not respond. She stares wide-eyed as Strahd’s fangs graze the delicate skin of her throat, right over the jugular. Her breath catches.   
“I won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” he whispers. She expects a hot breath of his words on her neck, but the air is cold. Another shiver earns a chuckle from the vampire. “I always forget how susceptible to the cold you, mortals, are. Not to worry, my dearest. Soon, it will not be a concern for you.”   
She shuts her eyes when she feels the sting of his fangs pierce her skin. The pain numbs out quickly as she loses her grip on consciousness.


	3. A Study of Questions

She’s sitting in an armchair in a warmly lit study. There’s a huge hearth with a cracking fire, filling the study with gentle heat and a smell of burning wood that mixes with the scents of old parchment and oiled leather. All around her are rows of books neatly stacked on wooden shelves by the walls. She stands on the soft, patterned carpet that covers the entirety of what is probably a stone floor underneath and makes her way to one of the shelves to look through the tomes. Most of the books’ titles are in languages she does not recognize. Those she does pertain to the arcane, the mysteries of divination and evocation. She traces her fingers along the backs of the books. The leather is well oiled. She moves on to the next shelf - more of the unknown languages and alphabets, and the subjects of magic. Strahd must be a very practiced spellcaster, she thinks.   
She chooses one book at random and slides it out of the shelf. She opens it on a random page, and she sees intricate writings on a spell called Dream. There are also notes on the margins.   
Ireena frowns as she reads the spell’s description. Communicating through dreams? Can he do that?  
Suddenly she realizes. She’s in Strahd’s study, even though there is no reason for her to be here. She doesn’t remember how she got here. She must be dreaming. And if she’s here, then-  
“Quite a collection I have gathered, is it not?” His voice startles her as she shuts the book and turns around. He’s sitting comfortably on one of the couches as if he’s been there the whole time, observing her with polite interest. “I must admit, I pride myself on this room. One of the few things I still care about in this castle.”  
Ireena puts the book back on its place and carefully turns to face the vampire.   
“Why am I here?” She asks.  
“I thought we needed to talk.”  
“I’m dreaming,” she states rather than asks. Strahd nods and points at the armchair in front of him with his palm, inviting her to sit. She chooses to stand in her place instead.   
“I don’t want to talk to you,” she says firmly and Strahd smiles lightly.  
“Neither of us believes that,” he answers. “Do you not want to know who you are? Who you were? Are you not curious about your past?”  
Ireena swallows and stays quiet.  
“We both know you wish to seek answers. And I can give them to you. I can give you so much more…” He trails off and shakes his head with a sigh. “I understand that the situation might feel awful for you right now. You feel like there is no right choice and that people are suffering because of you… is that not true?”  
His voice is soft, almost empathetic and tears well up in Ireena’s eyes. She recognizes the Devil’s words as manipulation, but she cannot help the reality of her guilt tugging at her heart.  
“Do you think your friends really have your back?” Strahd asks suddenly. Ireena’s gaze shoots up at him with confusion. The vampire reaches out for an envelope on the table and hands it out to her. After a moment of hesitation Ireena walks up to him and takes it. It’s addressed to Strahd von Zarovich and the handwriting seems familiar to her. She turns the envelope around and sees the name Ainan Wachter as the sender. Her heart skips a beat.  
“Read it.” Strahd waves his hand nonchalantly and seemingly loses his interest, skimming through a book. Ireena takes out the letter and, as she reads, her face pales.  
“How do I know this isn’t an illusion?” She asks weakly when she’s finished reading. “You could’ve conjured anything in a dream.”  
“That is true,” Strahd’s attention is back with her. “And that is why, when you wake up, you will find this exact letter in your possession. What you choose to do with it is your decision.”  
Ireena looks at the parchment with her hands shaking.   
“Why- Why did you show me this?”  
Strahd smiles inscrutably and stands up.   
“Your so-called friends? They’re lying to you. Everyone around you suffers because you refuse to accept your fate. I care about your safety, Ireena. I wish to see you safe in the walls of my home once again. So long as you deny the destiny’s call, the people around you will suffer. You need to make a decision.”  
Ireena opens her mouth to say something but the world spins and she’s falling. The mists engulf her from all sides and swallow every part of her consciousness until there is nothing left.


End file.
